


show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy

by robinlikeitshot



Series: JayTim Week 2020 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst, Batman: A Death in the Family, Dysfunctional Family, Jason Todd is Robin, JayTimWeek, JayTimWeek2020, Joker Junior - Freeform, M/M, Robin reversal, Slow Burn, Tim Drake is Red Hood, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinlikeitshot/pseuds/robinlikeitshot
Summary: “Tim, I-”“No. Just, don’t, Bruce. Not now. Not when there’s another Robin that’s fallen to the Joker. Just be glad he’s alive, and for god’s sake, stop making the same mistakes twice.”
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: JayTim Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770199
Comments: 23
Kudos: 181
Collections: JayTimWeek





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (title is a quote by F.Scott Fitzgerald)  
> so i re-wrote this au like three times but then decided what the hell, i like it, and i hope you all do too  
> just a note so no one gets confused, Tim died as joker junior in this, and Jason was still ratted out by his mom in Ethiopia, bruce just saves him in time  
> warnings for ooc-ness because i had kind of a difficult time trying to write Tim as Red Hood, and this was very much not beta read, but, ya know  
> Enjoy:)  
> [edit 6/6/20: now edited, my thanks to fathergillies for beta-ing, without her i can confirm this fic would be just a huge (spelling) mistake]

When Tim gets the message from Cass, the first thing he feels is anger.

Tim’s no stranger to being ghosted, being left behind, and he’d thought that Bruce’s radio silence was just him trying to passive-aggressively punish him- he hadn’t cared, just thrown the communicator the man had given him after their most recent make-up into the nearest bush and called it a day.

But the fact that Bruce was hiding this from him, fills Tim with a rage that he hadn’t touched on in years. It’s probably not a good idea to be on his bike right now, with how close the green was, but Tim doesn’t care, he doesn’t.

It’s probably even worse for him to be at the hospital right now, the setting reminding him way too much of his death, of the Joker and Harley and their _shinysharp_ tools, but he pushes past it, pushes past the people who crowd around him asking for authentication, pushes the door of Robin’s recovery room open, and slams Bruce into the wall.

The man’s tired, exhausted bags lining his eyes, probably the only reason he’d been able to get in here. But Tim doesn’t care.

Bruce regains his senses pretty quickly, throwing him off in a brief grapple. There are other arms around Tim now, dark muscle that he categorizes as Damian. He ignores him though, eyes only for the wrecked man in front of him, sallow skin being replaced by gree-

Dick walking into the room snaps him out of it, the child’s happy voice abruptly coming to a halt at the scene in front of him. Immediately, Tim feels like shit. He shakes off Damian’s arms, the man deeming him safe for now as he let him go.

Avoiding looking at the boy lying still on the hospital bed, he stalks outside, in the bright hall studded with white linoleum lights that Tim wants to rip out till his nails bleed. Bruce follows him, stance tense, not that Tim blames him. If Damian hadn’t stopped him Tim probably would have ripped the man’s throat out, and he’s not sure he would regret it if he did.

“You should have kept me informed.”

“Based on your reaction, I’d say I’m glad I didn’t.”

Deep breath. Let it out. And another. Tim reigns himself back in, tucking all the vulnerable parts that seem to spill out whenever the Joker is mentioned, like someone made a neat little incision on his sternum and then ripped his spleen out-

“Where is he?” Tim knows the answer he wants. He knows its not the one he’s going to get.

“Arkham.”

Another breath, one that Tim holds for seven seconds before letting it go. He misses the helmet, the make-up coating his cheeks starting to itch.

“What are you going to do?” Tim’s prouder than he should be that his voice holds steady.

“I’m not going to kill him,” he answers, leveling Tim with a look. As if Tim didn’t know that already.

“I’m not asking about him, asshole.” He jerks his chin to the door behind which another prone Robin lies, his family gathered around him with a dozen flowers give or take. Tim wonders if anyone had brought him any flowers when he’d died. Steph probably had.

“I-” Tim’s not sure he’s ever seen Bruce look so unsure, so conflicted. “Part of me wants to take him home. Go back to the way things were-” He fought not to roll his eyes, no one came back from the Joker ‘the way they were’ “-and part of me wants to send him to Arkham.”

Tim’s spine snaps straight, his eyes going a very dangerous shade of green. “Goddamn it, Bruce, I swear if you stick Jason in Arkham I will break him out myself.” His hands subconsciously fist at his sides, reminders of his time there flitting through his mind as he stared at the world’s biggest idiot. “It’ll destroy him.”

There’s a lot unsaid, a lot of words that lie heavy and useless on the marble floor beneath them. Words like _you hurt me_ and _I hate you_ and _whywhywhy_. Things like _I’m sorry I wasn’t enough_ and _I’m not your son(I never was)_.

“Tim, I-”

“No. Just, don’t, Bruce. Not now. Not when there’s another Robin that’s fallen to the Joker. Just be glad he’s alive, and for god’s sake, stop making the same mistakes twice.”

Bruce doesn’t try and stop him as Tim leaves, so he does just that.

*****

It’s only three weeks before he sees Jason again. Usually, if Tim’s lucky he can go months at a time without a bat trying to crawl up his ass, but it seems like this time his fortune has failed him.

He’s standing on a rooftop near City Hall, keeping an eye on some runners he suspects might be crooked, when the soft swish of a cape lands behind him.

Tim doesn’t turn to look, not even when Robin comes to stand up beside him, balancing gracefully on the ledge. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim can see the kid looks worse for wear, probably even more so than the last time Tim had emptied a round of bullets in his stomach. The uniform hangs from him, and the deep sunken shadows beneath his eyes can’t be concealed by a mask.

“You visited me.” It’s not a question. Tim replies anyway.

“I wouldn’t call it a visit.”

Robin’s silent next to him and Tim ignores him as he snaps careful pictures of incriminating evidence. Of course, his word alone is enough to go by these days, but he likes to be thorough.

“Can we talk.” The boy’s voice is quiet, even meek. Tim frowns, hidden by his helmet. That wasn’t normal.

“We aren’t talking right now?” he asks, light voice betraying the concern he felt for the kid. He felt a bit bad as well, for leaving so quickly. He probably should have left something, but he didn’t and now he’s got to deal with the consequences.

“Somewhere a bit less….”

“Robin?”

“Yeah.”

“Follow me.”

*****

Tim watches the kid play around with his fries with a heavy pit of worry. Jason refusing food was something practically unheard of, so much so that even _he_ knew about it.

When the kid’s finally decided to stop playing around and look up, Tim starts.

“You said you wanted to talk. So talk.” It’s harsh, too harsh to use on a nineteen-year-old who’s just survived an encounter with the Joker, but it’s what they are and there’s nothing Tim can do to change it.

“Can you-” Jason makes a motion towards his head and Tim tenses.

“Kid.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I just-” Tim doesn’t think he’s ever heard Robin apologize to him before. He takes the helmet off.

It’s a relief when Jason doesn’t flinch at his scars, and Tim reminds himself detachedly that the kid has probably already spent so much time staring at him criminal records that he probably knows his face better than his own. “Talk.”

“Bruce wanted to send me to Arkham.” He says it like he’s scared, like a tiny kitten who’s just been hosed down with freezing water. Tim hates it.

“Oh?”

The boy’s teal eyes turn angry. “Don’t bullshit me, I watched the hospital tapes.” Now this is the Robin Tim’s used to, and he leans back.

“Then you already know the answer.”

Jason doesn’t let go that easily. “You stood up for me.”

Tim bristles. “You don’t need to thank me, kid. No one deserves to go to Arkham.”

The boy stares at him for a couple of seconds, squinting. Tim fights the urge to fidget, but eventually, Jason’s gaze breaks away.

“What do you do, about, the. The nightmares.” Tim remembers his first few weeks at the League, of waking up screaming every night, tons of dead ninja surrounding him that he didn’t even remember killing-

“You take sedatives and sleep with a knife under your pillow. They don’t go away, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jason takes a breath, looking out of the cracked windows of the diner they’re in. “He talked about you, you know.”

“Don’t.”

“Stephanie said it might help you find closure-”

“Stephanie doesn’t know shit.” It’s way too harsher than he meant it to be, too mean. Slowly Tim realizes the kid just flinched, and that he just slammed his hand down on the table. The waitress is looking over at them.

He takes a breath. “Sorry.” Because there’s a lot of people who don’t deserve his apology, but Jason’s not one of them. But no, I won’t talk about him”

Jason nods his head. “I get it. It’s pretty much all anyone in the manor can talk about for more than five minutes.”

Tim gives a quiet chuckle, far different than the Joker’s, than Junior, and he sees Jason relax a little bit. Odd, most people don’t like it when he laughs, for obvious reasons. “At least they’re worried about you. You have a lot of support, Rob.” Support that isn’t _Tim_.

“I’m not so sure about that anymore,” Jason shakes his head, breath increasing at an imperceptible level. Tim’s trained to catch the imperceptible, though, but he keeps his face neutral as he listens to the boy. “I don’t think B’s gonna give me back Robin.”

“You scared him,” Tim points out.

“Maybe. But it’s not fair. Robin’s mine, least it’s supposed to be.” Tim does a very good job of not flinching, and Jason still gives him a wary look before continuing. “I’ve been benched indefinitely and I haven’t been allowed to leave the house in weeks!”

“He smothers.”

Jason frowns. “What?”

“B,” Tim confirms, clearing his throat. “It’s his way of trying to show affection without actually appearing vulnerable.” This talk is stirring up too many memories, too many feelings that Tim has long since tried to keep buried. And he knows if he doesn’t let go now then he’ll let his emotions take over his logic, and then there’s no telling what he’d do. He stops the shudder that comes with remembering the time Dick had succeeded in dragging him to the Manor, and stands up.

“Sorry, Rob, but I got to run. Say hi to N for me, or don’t it doesn’t really matter.” He’s trying to distance himself, and it’s _not working_ , given by the knowing look on Robin’s face. Tim hates it, but they’re long past him trying to wipe it off the kid with a fist, and so he just backs away.

He’s not completely heartless though, he knows what it’s like to have the Joker’s smile imprinted in the back of your eyes, every time he looks in the mirror- so he tosses a small communicator on the dirty diner table. Jason’s eyes immediately snap to it, which Tim fights not to internally sigh at. He knew Bruce had gone easier on the kid’s training than he had with him but to see it so clearly in front of him-

“Call me. If you ever feel like doing anything rash.”

“Isn't calling you rash in and of itself?”

Tim grinned, ignoring the slight twinge in his cheeks that never seemed to go away. “Now you’re talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked reading this, pls feel free to drop a comment or kudos down below, they're very much appreciated, and if you didn't, then pls also comment down below as i am completely open to (constructive)criticism.  
> if yall want to yell at me about hurting the boys, you can check out my tumblr at robinlikeitshot  
> Thanks for reading:)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bruce let you out yet?” It’s not the best starter, but for the first time in his life, Tim doesn’t know what to say.
> 
> “He did.” Jason’s voice is rough and scratchy, like he’s been crying. He hadn’t cried even when Tim had slit his throat. “But I’m benched again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello y'all, not really sure how i managed to get this one out so fast, but hopefully you guys like it:)  
> warnings for suicidal ideation, and speaking or alluding to suicide. Jason is very much in a bad place right now, and the conversations that take place in this chapter revolve around that. pls take care of yourself everyone, especially in times like these  
> without further ado, enjoy:)

It’s six months before Jason calls him. Tim’s out of Gotham, working a case up in Moldova with Kon and Bart when he gets it, but the kid’s panicked voice on the other end, barely contained tears staining his usually brash voice, gets him on a plane faster than you could say ‘Joker’.

In the eight hours it takes to reach, even with him pushing the jet as fast as he can while still keeping stealth mode active, he comes to the conclusion of the question of why exactly he’s doing this. This being helping out the replacement he’d hated for the longer part of their relationship. 

Acknowledging the guilt that’s probably the driving factor, he also examines the theory that it might be because of his constant fight with Bruce before he shakes it aside. He’s not doing this for Bruce. Which of course, brings him to the other idea, that he might be doing this out of affection for the other Robin. The years had changed, and no matter how their relationship was still fraught with danger, they had come a long way, and Tim’s unchecked feelings had grown.

Tim’s surprised as he realizes this. That his relationship with Jason is probably better than with the rest of the family, that their past few interactions have been- well, not enjoyable, he wouldn’t say, but not _not_ enjoyable. Startled, Tim quickly puts his feelings back into their box, returning the majority of his attention back to the files he’s been sorting as an apology for bailing halfway through a mission. 

He reaches Gotham at three am, and the tracker he’d placed on Jason’s Robin suit- well, the tracker that he’d hacked- was showing him to be south of City Hall. It takes him twenty minutes to get there from his safehouse in the Bowery, after driving in from the outskirts of the Bowery, having landed his plane in the woods that no one ventured in.

When he finally grapples onto the building Jason’s tracker shows him at, Tim’s heart thuds in his chest when he sees the boy standing at the very edge, looking down at the street sixty feet below. Tim’s no stranger to suicide, has offed himself twice before he realized that Ra’s was just going to keep bringing him back each time, but that doesn’t mean that seeing his replacement- seeing _Jason_ like that -scares him. 

Because Jason has a vitality that Tim had always lacked as Robin, and he may not be a better fighter, a better tactician, but the boy knew his streets. And after realizing his feelings earlier, Tim finds himself a lot more emotionally attached than he ever thought he would be with a Bat again. 

The last thing Tim wants to do is startle him, so instead, he walks up, slowly, letting his boots tap against the ground with loud thuds that are foreign to him. Jason acts like he hasn’t heard him, just keeps looking down at the speeding cars that look like a colony of multi-colored ants from this distance. “Bruce let you out yet?” It’s not the best starter, but for the first time in his life, Tim doesn’t know what to say.

“He did.” Jason’s voice is rough and scratchy, like he’s been crying. He hadn’t cried even when Tim had slit his throat. “But I’m benched again.” His voice hitches.

Tim frowns, Bruce had played plenty of mind games on him during his training, his whole career (his throat clicks as he thinks of Steph), but sources had revealed that Bruce had been much kinder to Jason in that aspect. “Something happened.” Something that made Jason think standing on the edge of a rooftop with 45mph winds without his grapple. Something that was hopefully someone so Tim could empty the extra round he’d brought with him just in case. 

“B thinks I killed someone.” Tim’s heart stops. “He- I didn’t, I swore to him I didn’t, but he doesn’t- he doesn’t believe me, he doesn’t, doesn’t trust me. Not anymore,” Jason stutters out. Tim remembers that speech difficulties were one of the many massive injuries that the Joker had left the boy with. He’s crying, and before he does something stupid and impulsive like put a hand on the kid’s shoulder, he takes his helmet off, relieved when Jason relaxes a bit.

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Tim remarks, after letting Jason have a few moments to collect himself. 

Jason turns to him, angry. “I’m not lying, I wouldn’t- he fell. He fell, and that’s it. I-” he cuts himself off, teeth gritted. 

Tim hums. “B thinks you’re compromised.”

“I’m no-”

“You are,” Tim states. “Just not in the way you think.” He fixes his eyes on the boy, the red around his eyes from where he’d ripped his mask off, high up enough that no one could see him.

Jason’s face reddens with humiliation. “I wasn’t going to,” he argues, tensing up. “I’m not- I’m not insane, or mentally compromised, I don’t care what B thinks.”

“But you were thinking about it.” 

“I called you, didn’t I.” Jason’s eyes stray back to the skyline, which has adopted a tinted glow with how long they’ve been here, standing on the rooftop.

“You didn’t call N.” It’s the one thing confusing him, multiple avenues that the answer could be, but Tim wants to hear it from Jason himself.

“I didn’t. Dami. Dami wouldn’t get it, he’d tell Bruce and then he’d bench me forever,” Jason’s voice trembles, and Tim remembers, remembers those days when Robin was the only thing holding him together, the only thing that kept him waking up every day. When everything around him was falling apart, Robin was his constant. Of course, that eventually got taken away from him too, along with his life- Tim swallows down the bitterness, resting a tentative gloved hand on Jason’s shoulder. 

Because Tim understands what it’s like to come back from the Joker, and he knows Bruce like the back of his hand. He knows what Bruce gets like when he doesn’t understand something, when someone pulls one over him. “I’m glad you called me,” he offers, nervous, hesitant. Red Hood isn’t either of those things, he doesn’t offer comfort, but the hood is tucked into the crook of his elbow right now and Tim’s bare face is the one being buffeted by Gotham’s cold winds. 

They both stand there, and then they’re sitting and watching as the light slowly crawls its way into the city’s signature smog, trading soft words that become neither of them as they wait for one of them to say it.

It’s clear to Tim, as the sun slowly edges its way along the skyline, that Jason’s not going to be the one to bring it up; he’s going to have to do it himself. “I don’t think you should be alone right now.” 

Jason’s hands clench on the stone of the roof, far far away from the edge that Tim had convinced him into backing away from. “You won’t tell them.” Tim wants to point out that the boy’s hardly in any place to make demands, but he takes the thought and locks it away. It won’t help him right now.

“No. You have to make that decision for yourself. But I’m not exactly enthusiastic about leaving you by yourself when you’re suicidal.” He sees Jason flinch out of the corner of his eye at his blunt phrasing, but Tim’s always been clinical. Never straight-forward though, throwing the kid off.

“N’s out of town. And I can’t go to the manor.” Jason doesn’t offer why, so Tim doesn’t ask. 

He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, because there’s plenty of other options, favors he could call in but- “You can stay over at mine.”

“What? Seriously?” Jason asks, surprised at the offer. Hell, Tim’s surprised at the offer.

“Yes.” Because there’s a bit of hope in Jason’s eyes, a light that Tim can’t imagine destroying(except he can, the light slowly draining from the other’s eyes as the kid’s blood spurts across his bastardized costume-). “C’mon, it’s not far,” he says, tossing him a grapple before he takes a running leap off the roof.

Tim’s happier than he’s willing to investigate that Jason follows after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure when ill be able to get the next one out, because I'm currently working on a stray au that's hit quintuple digits, which i will hopefully begin posting on the nineteenth, so like stay tuned ig:)  
> if u could spare a moment to drop a kudos or a comment, u will literally have me eternal gratitude


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